The voice was silent the entire ride home. No matter how loudly Saber tried to shout in his skull. Was it possible for one to shout mentally?

He even went so far as to mutter aggressively, careful to keep his mutterings below the volume of the soft music Julie turned on after five minutes of uncomfortable silence. Saber gave up on contacting the cursed voice as the car cruised into the hotel’s awning. 

With a combination of smothering motherly love from Julie and Saber’s indignant squirming, the pair managed to assemble Saber’s ‘disguise’. The disguise consisted of a second coat to obscure Saber’s form, a beanie, lifts in Saber’s sneakers, and a black face mask. 

In Saber’s opinion the lifts did most of the work. Another suggestion from Julie. One of Saber’s defining features was his stature. There weren’t many American guys under 5’6’’. People were much more likely to dismiss his other features when his eyes were a good three inches above where they should be. 

Julie sighed and worried over Saber through the entire elevator ride. 

“If you need it we can cancel-” 

“No,” Saber stated firmly. He ran his hand over his face. The sinister smiling visage that met him in the mirror as his hands passed over his eyes made Saber’s stomach start doing somersaults again. He started speaking again just to distract himself, “If I don’t have something to do I’m just going to go insane replaying it over and over. I’ll be like that one guy in that Stephen King movie.” 

Saber gestured vague circles in the air. Julie put a hand on his back and rubbed soothing circles between his shoulderblades. 

“Do you need to sleep in my room?” 

Saber nearly choked on his own spit in his haste to decline her offer. She meant well but she’d clearly forgotten that Saber was no longer a child. An adult male employer sleeping in the same room as his female employee wasn’t a good look. Personal history didn’t matter when it came to optics. 

“Next you’ll be asking to change my diapers again,” Saber rolled his eyes before flinching at how harsh he’d come across. Before he could apologize Julie snapped back. 

“You’re wearing diapers again? Goodness this’s worse than I thought.” 

Saber heard, ‘I know you’re just stressed.’ 

Saber could read it in her loose posture and wry smile. He sighed in relief before laughing with her. 

“Would you really change them for me?” Saber snorted. 

“Course kiddo. I expect you to do the same for me in a few years when I’ve gone old and batty.” 

“A few years? You aging in doubles?” 

“With the stress you put me through I might as well be.” 

The conversation tapered off as they approached Saber’s hotel room. Julie materialized his key from somewhere. She held it out to him but snatched it away when he reached for it. 

“You sure you don’t need anything from me?” The sincerity in Julie’s voice killed any annoyance in Saber. 

He shook his head and tugged at the cuff of his sleeve, “I’m exhausted. All I need is some rest. The best way to help me get that is for you to rest. I don’t need you keeping me up all night because I’m worried about you worrying about me.” 

Julie squeezed Saber’s arm reassuringly as she handed over the keycard, “I’m always here for you kiddo. Remember to leave the adjoining door unlocked.” 

Saber reassured her he would. He ducked into his room and closed the door without looking back. He knew any hesitance would read as anguish Julie would feel responsible for mitigating. 

A long time ago, when Saber was eleven or twelve years old, he’d gone to a carnival. It was a stereotypical pop up affair. Spinning rides and rickety roller coasters that likely went on to cause final destination-esque accidents after years of set up and tear down. Snack vendors with various deep fried abominations tailor made to elicit vomiting when customers later boarded the aforementioned rides. 

At the time Saber’s friends beelined for the haunted maze. Being on the cusp of thirteen, that coveted year that gave you access to low grade horror movies at the local theater, made them ravenous for all things scary. 

Saber was a coward, he’d openly admit it. Both in his adolescence and now. He jumped at the slightest sound or flash. The most foreshadowed scare never failed to get a reaction out of him. His cowardice, unfortunately, made him all the more popular to drag along for things like haunted mazes. 

At the entrance for the maze stood a large wooden cut-out of a freekish man’s gaping maw. A sign reading ‘Enter The Belly of the Beast’ in bloody font was nailed to a post in front of the opening. A teenage worker with half-assed clown makeup and a staff t-shirt whose collar was smeared with said makeup gave the group a heavily rehearsed speech before motioning them towards the entrance. 

Upon approach Saber saw the large black balloons pressed together beyond the mouth cut out. Saber’s friends eagerly dove into the claustrophobic squeeze. Saber hesitated. He looked between the bored teen attendant at the entrance with undisguised horror. 

It wasn’t until the teen rolled his eyes and said something along the lines of “Go in or get out of line, I don’t give a shit.” that Saber felt compelled through sheer shame to face his newfound fear of tight spaces. 

The moment he pressed in all light in the world was squeezed out. The black vinyl pressed over his mouth and nose. He couldn’t get a breath in, let alone scream. His body was compressed from every angle like he was being buried alive. 

At the time words of Edgar Allan Poe came to Saber, “The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague.”  

“This is that shadow,” Saber thought. The world was gone and he was both dead and alive at the same time. 

For some reason, Saber was reminded of that experience as he pushed through the dark, oppressive silence between the door and bed of his hotel room. 

He sat on the furthest edge of his bed, poised to run at the slightest provocation. 

“What- No. Who are you?” Saber asked the empty room. Silence stretched out like Saber’s sanity, precariously thin. And much like Saber’s sanity, it snapped the moment the voice responded. 

[I was Echo Sinclair. But I don’t think I’m much of anything now.] 

Tears stung at Saber’s eyes and he felt his stomach turn in distress. He didn’t know if he’d start sobbing or retching first. He tried to prevent both by speaking again. 

“So you’re- well you were a person? You’re not just like a figment of my imagination brought on by trauma?” 

[I’m not sure what exactly I am so I have no idea how to prove my validity to you Saber..] 

The voice sounded almost mournful. They were truly sorry they couldn’t help. It didn’t matter. Even as he vocalized the question, Saber knew the answer. 

Echo-- Saber internally rolled his eyes at the irony --wasn’t purely of his own mind's invention. Now Saber wasn’t so confident in the soundness of his own mind that he’d go so far as to dismiss the possibility of psychosis. 

There were three main points in favor of Echo’s existence being supernatural and not an artifact of Saber’s recent traumas.

1. Saber hadn’t even realized the man picked up the gun, let alone which direction he was pointing it. 

2. Saber also had no clue where the security office was. 

3. Finally, Officer Hawks found the sticky note exactly where Echo said it would be. 

Saber had no memory of ever seeing it. Of course, it was technically possible Saber saw it and only remembered it on a subconscious level. Still, combined with the other points it made a strong case for Saber’s continued sanity.

Maybe Saber just didn’t want to confront the possibility that he was really, honest to goodness, losing it. But something in Saber’s core was screaming out Echo’s authenticity. 

He knew it the way he knew his favorite color. The way he knew it was time to get up even when his alarm failed to go off. The way you know someone’s looking through you, not at you. 

Beyond that, Saber still had one other issue to deal with. 

An issue he refused to face without a companion. 

“Ok! Let's say you’re real. Then those things- The things I see when I close my eyes. Are they real too?” 

[...I wish I could tell you otherwise. I’m more certain about their validity than my own. What you’re seeing is a world that exists parallel to our own; the veil. Something like death, or the place between here and death.] 

“So like ghosts?” 

Could a person die from fear alone? 

[Not exactly. Not the way you’re thinking. The things you see were never people. Not in the traditional sense anyways.] 

Saber gritted his teeth. What was with this guy and the phrase ‘the traditional sense’? Was he some kind of theoretical physicist? A professor of sociology? Some third bullshit science? 

[They’re like remnants of human energy. Traces of interactions and imprints of emotions.] 

“You some sorta two-bit psychic?” Saber barked out a bitter laugh as he looked down at his hands. First he had to watch a man die, then start hearing voices and now he was seeing into another plane. 

[I’m sorry you had to see that Saber…] 

Oh yeah, this guy could hear his thoughts. 

“I’m not the one who needs the apology…” Saber couldn’t even remember the man’s face. He knew he smiled before his head fell back but the rest was fuzzy. Like his features had been cast in shadow, “I didn’t even ask his name.” 

Saber finally gave in to the despair that’d been hovering over him. 

A man was dead, and it was Saber’s fault. 

[It’s not your fault Saber.] 

“Easy for you to say!” Saber bit out bitterly, looking up and out at the empty hotel room, “You’re already dead! He wasn’t! He was alive a few hours ago! And now he’s gone and it’s all my fault.” 

[Saber…] 

Echo was hesitant, nervous. Saber almost wanted to apologize. 

[I was alive a few hours ago. Saber, he is-was me.] 

“Oh god…” Saber covered his mouth in horror. 

[You don’t have to apologize, I understand. All of this has been very traumatic for you.] 

A dead-- recently dead man was comforting Saber. 

A man who died protecting Saber was comforting him. 

“I’m such a dick,” Saber thought to himself.

[You’re really not] 

Saber thought to himself AND Echo. 

[How could you know he was me?] 

“I could have asked! Or thought about it for more than five seconds!” Saber was trying to apologize, so why was his voice hoarse and his temper strained? 

Saber buried his face in his hands only to meet a painful reminder of the second half of his newfound affliction. Below him layers upon layers of horrors descended downwards. The rooms beneath Saber, he realized. He jerked his head up and screamed silently. 

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” 

Echo was laughing. It didn’t really sound like laughing, but Saber could tell it was. He felt the warmth in his own chest, layered unceremoniously atop his own panic. 

[In life I was something of a medium] 

“Like a spirit medium?” Saber raised an eyebrow skeptically. Not that he really had room for skepticism in his already overcrowded skull. 

Echo laughed again. 

[Bingo. I was the youngest in a family of spirit mediums.] 

“Oh god you had a family…” All color drained from Saber’s face. He fell back on the bed and looked up, unblinking, at the unlit light fixture above him. 

[Don’t spiral Saber!] 

Saber groaned and clawed at his face, careful not to cover his eyes, “Easy for you to say! You’re dead and somehow totally at peace with it! I still have to deal with all this shit! Do I send flowers? Do I go to your funeral? Should I tell them you’re in my head? Would they already know?” 

[Saber, breathe. In for five hold for seven out for five come on..] 

Echo began to count steadily in his frustratingly calming voice. Saber followed his instructions. More because he couldn’t block them out than a real desire to. 

It helped, much to Saber’s annoyance. 

[Don’t take this the wrong way…I don’t think you should contact my family.] 

“Echo, I don’t have a choice. You died protecting me. I’m a public figure. If I don’t reach out I’ll look like an entitled dick!” Saber held his arms up, gesturing to an imaginary markee, “Saber Lynn ignores grieving family after fan dies protecting him” "It'd be a nightmare for Julie.” 

Saber turned to his side as if addressing Echo conspiritorially, “You gotta give me something. Their favorite flowers, fruits they like for a basket. Literally anything.” 

Echo sighed. The sensation tickled in the back of Saber’s mind. 

[Send them thirty five dollars.] 

“Oh god it’s over for me..”